The Thrill Is Gone

The first seven months of their separation went by easily enough. That’s not to say it wasn’t challenging for them to be apart, it was something they had to work at each and every day, but they were both willing to put the effort in, both committed to making their relationship work, and their hard work paid off. They spoke daily on Skype. During the week, it was only a half hour a day, since Harry was busy with his training, and Paulina was running around from lectures to her work as a research assistant to her volunteering, but on the weekends, they spoke for two, sometimes three or more hours. They even took their dinners together on the weekends. Harry would sit in front of his computer with whatever he was to dine on, and Paulina would sit in front of hers, and have her lunch while he ate his dinner. They felt awkward and silly the first few times they did that, but it didn’t long for it to become normal to sit and chat in that manner. And it became so normal, so effortless, that sometimes it was almost as if they were truly sitting across the table from each other. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that there were thousands upon thousands of miles between them.

Their communicating wasn’t done only via Skype. That was their most lengthy form of communication, but every night, just before Harry went to bed, he’d phone Paulina so that she could talk him to sleep. She never really talked about anything that actually interested him. She’d usually go on about something that she learned during lectures or something pertaining to the research she did with Professor Warren, but regardless of his disinterest, he loved to hear her speak, he loved hearing her ramble on about things she found fascinating. It was comforting to hear her be so passionate, and her passionate rambles served as sweet lullabies for him.

Had Paulina been able to, she would’ve done the same. She would’ve called him up right before bed, and had him talk her to sleep, but unfortunately for her, if she went to sleep at a decent hour, which was any time before midnight, he would’ve been fast asleep, getting his much needed rest. And if she called him at one or three in the morning, when she usually went to bed, then he would’ve either been busy getting ready for his training or he would’ve been at training. The time difference didn’t allow her to have his voice be the last thing she heard before getting to bed, but it was fine.

They were fine.

They were making the best of their situation. Did they sometimes get into arguments? Hell yeah, they fucking did. There were times when their daily conversations transformed into heated arguments in which they both said things they didn’t actually mean. They were young, and sometimes their emotions ran high, a common ailment of youth. They were both prone to being stubborn. That was something they tried not to be, because they knew how detrimental it could be for their relationship, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped. Sometimes it was impossible not to be stubborn fools that got angry and became so overwhelmed by their emotions, and so flustered at their situation, that they would just lose it.

They couldn’t handle everything they had going on, and they’d lose it and have a go at each other. It was emotionally exhausting to argue, and sometimes they were left discouraged and disenchanted with the state of them, but what mattered most wasn’t the fact that they were fighting, what mattered most was that they loved each other and were committed to making their relationship work, because when they were together – fuck, when they were together, the world was perfect.

It was as if they’d never been apart. Whenever they were together, they were right back to being the silly, adoring lovers that were fond of long walks and bike rides, the lovers who spent drunken night at clubs and made love well into the early hours of the morning. They went back to being as they had been during their holiday in Paris. And it was those stolen days out of each moth that reminded them why they were putting so much effort into their relationship. It reminded them why they were on Skype and spoke on the phone, and why they were faithful, even when temptation was all around them.

To them, those days were glimpses of heaven, and there was nothing quite as sweet as that first moment when they would lock eyes at London Heathrow Airport. Harry would always be standing between Alistair and Kamal, just another lover clutching flowers for their beloved, and when he’d see her emerge into the arrivals area, bright eyed despite having spent the entire flight over doing coursework, he’d forget himself and bellow her name at the top of his lungs, not caring if it wasn’t the proper thing to do. He didn’t give a fuck about propriety, not after such a prolonged separation. The only thing he gave a fuck about was getting to her, of holding her in his arms and snogging her until their lips were sore.

At the sound of his voice, Paulina would turn in his direction, and when her dark brown eyes met his steel blue ones, the world would vanish. All that remained was them and the promise of their happiness.

Whenever they were together, time stood still. They picked right up where they’d left off the last time she’d been in England. They would spend all of Friday together, not venturing from the flat that Prince Charles let them borrow, then on Saturdays, they would go out, sometimes meet up with Kate and Wills, others with Alfie and Via, or his friends, but Sundays were meant for him, only him. They would go out for a little bit, out on some stroll down the street or a pastry run to their favorite bakery, but for the most part they remained inside, trying to have their fill of each other.

That was how things usually went for them, but when she was able to be there for extended periods, such as the two weeks she was in England for winter break and her week and a half in March, he wasn’t as greedy with her time. They traveled a lot more, mostly through England, but a couple of times they went up to Scotland and a few times to Wales. Harry even took her on royal engagements he had. She would stand in the crowd as he spoke or stand beside him with a polite smile as he opened a new wing at a hospital or a new center for soldiers. She was very much present in his life, very much active. And when she was in England for extended periods, she even spent more time with the royal family. The Queen invited them to dine with her three times during her winter break, and once during the spring. There had also been invitations to tea that Paulina accepted, and a few meals at Clarence House with Charles and Camilla.

Things were great for them when they were together, and they were well when they were separated, but then things just sort of started falling apart.

During the first seven months of their separation, they had gotten into an average of one or two arguments per month. Those arguments were usually resolved during the same conversation or during a conversation on the following day. They were the sort of arguments that while feeling massive, were actually childish and not worth having at all, but then in April, things became more heated.

Due to her increase in coursework, impending finals, and lack of a holiday off in April, Paulina wasn’t able to fly out to England. She had tried messing around with her schedule to see if she could get two days to fly out and come back, but because she was going to take exams early, there was no way in hell that she could fly over there, so she told Harry that. She told him that as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t travel, but that if he could get a weekend off to himself, that maybe he could visit, especially since he hadn’t flown out since the summer, but Harry told her that they could just wait, that he didn’t want to get in her way while she studied. He wanted her to finish up so she could take her exams early and add an extra week to her summer stay in England.

Paulina initially thought that sweet of him. She appreciated that he was so thoughtful, but then things changed, then Harry started spending almost every weekend with Jake Warren.

Since Harry was practically done with his training, the weekends were for the most part, open. He could do whatever he liked for those two days, and while his mornings and early afternoons were usually filled with royal duties, his evenings and nights were spent going out with his mates. They’d dine at their favorite restaurants, wander off afterwards to the best club they could think of, and there he would dance with beautiful, scantily clad women. Paulina didn’t mind the dancing, not really. She understood that she wasn’t there and that if Harry wanted to dance, then he was going to have to dance with some other woman, and that was fine by her, it was alright. What did bother her was the fact that Chelsy fucking Davy was usually close by.

There were numerous photographs taken of him laughing with Chelsy or dancing with her, and that . . . well, that didn’t sit well with Paulina. Even though it’d been nearly two years since the kissing incident, Paulina couldn’t shake the image from her mind. And whenever she saw them laughing and dancing, she became afraid that something might happen. Better said, she became jealous. It was petty of her. She knew it was, but she couldn’t help it. Harry had a complicated history with Chelsy, Harry been photographed kissing Chelsy while he was in Africa ignoring Paulina, and she just couldn’t stomach the fact that that lady was partying with him and laughing with him, when she was living in a library and running on three or four hours of sleep a day.

So feeling like she had to tell him something, Paulina asked Harry if he could please not party with Chelsy as often as he was. Harry got defensive when she told him that, he told her that he didn’t invite Chelsy out with them, she went along with Jake, and Harry wasn’t going to be a dick to her just because Paulina felt insecure. He was having fun. That was it. Did he dance with her? Yes. Did he laugh? Oh yeah, he fucking did, but he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He wasn’t feeling anyone up or making out with anyone. He was being faithful, and he reminded her of that all the time. He told her that he was faithful and he reminded her that if she’d just gone to Oxford, they wouldn’t have been in that situation. If she’d gone to Oxford, he wouldn’t have been seeing Chelsy Davy at all. It was her fault. So she had to get over it.

That argument was never resolved. Every so often, it flared up, but eventually, one of them would change the subject and the other would go along with it, because they were just so fed up with fighting. It was exhausting. They were usually able to go a day or two, three days when things were particularly good, but eventually, their arguments would start up again.

And on that Friday morning, things were most definitely going to start up again. Paulina was in Washington DC with Professor Warren, whom was scheduled to go before the United States Senate Committee on Banking and Urban Affairs to give her testimony on behalf of the Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act, which was aimed at establishing a Consumer Financial Protection Bureau. It was to be a long Friday at the Senate hearing, followed by a long weekend of meeting with Senators and Representatives. Warren was going to be running around the capital, and she needed help so she turned to Paulina and asked her to accompany her to Washington where she would act the part of a personal assistant.

The two women drove out to Washington on Thursday afternoon. Elizabeth had decided that she wasn’t in the mood to do research, so they drove out a day early and settled into the two hotels rooms that she’d reserved for them. Elizabeth could’ve easily called on one of her friends to let them stay in their Washington homes, but Elizabeth didn’t want to have to humor them when all she wanted to do was work, so she got the adjoining rooms and Paulina and she worked well into the late hours of the night, preparing for the following day’s hearing.

Early the next morning, Elizabeth sent Paulina out to pick up a few things from the market. They were going to need waters and snacks to get them through the long day ahead so Paulina drove to the local market in Warren’s car and picked up mineral waters, bottles teas, dried fruit snacks, granola, and Twinkies, since they were Elizabeth’s guilty pleasure. Paulina did her shopping in peace, a few people recognized her, and from the corner of her eye, she could see the strangers taking pictures. It wasn’t too bad though, she preferred to have strangers awkwardly taking pictures of her, than to have photographers harassing her. So she paid them no attention, and everything was alright. That was to say, everything was alright until she hit the checkout area. She stood in line behind three people, and as she waited, her eyes wandered over to the magazine stand. She didn’t expect to see anything of interest, only the usual tabloids and newspapers that were so popular in Washington, but when she turned to look, she was immediately taken by the cover of Star, an American tabloid magazine.

It took every ounce of strength she had to not reach out and grab the tabloid. She was on the cover! They were using some old picture of her, one that had been taken while she was on her way to visit the hospital for flu symptoms she was experiencing, and underneath it was a caption standing that she was absolutely miserable and crying all the time. The image of her didn’t take up the entire front page. It was only a fraction of it. What took up the entire page was a picture of a drunken Harry with some topless woman sitting on his lap. And the woman wasn’t just topless as in her top was off and she had her bra on, she was topless as in her tits were in his face, nipples on full display.

Paulina seethed in anger, but she had to remain clam. She didn’t have time to call him, to hear what had gone on. She had to pay for the merchandise, then go back to the hotel, take a cab to the hearing with Professor Warren, and sit through hours upon hours of testimonies. There was no time for her to freak out, her schedule didn’t permit it. The only thing she could do was get on her phone to see if the picture was real or if someone had photoshopped it, and she hoped to God that someone had photoshopped the picture, but when she went on Google, she found even more pictures. They were taken at various angles, some were clearer, some blurrier, but they all had Harry with that woman on his lap.

According to the information she was able to find on the internet, Harry had gotten really drunk at a club and had spent most of the night dancing with that girl. He invited her back to the VIP section where he sat with all his mates, and somehow or another, her top came off. According to someone sitting nearby, Jake and Guy had said that there was no way her boobs were real, they were just too perky, and the woman, feeling like it’d get her in with the prince, had taken her top off to prove them wrong. That was what one of the reports said, and Paulina hoped that it was true. She hoped that she could blame it on Jake and Guy being horny idiots, instead of on Harry.

What made her feel better about the whole thing was the fact that Harry didn’t leave with that girl. He left with Tom, whom had taken it upon himself to get in touch with Alistair and who told him to drive them over to his flat, but despite that, the woman had sat on Harry’s lap for quite some time, she had even kissed his cheek, and he kissed hers. It all disgusted Paulina. It made her feel sick to her stomach. If he wanted to have tits in his face then he should’ve gone to a damn strip club. She wouldn’t have been upset at him for going to a strip club, she didn’t give a fuck if he got lap dances and had tits put in his face by professional strippers, that was their job, their livelihood, they weren’t there to try to fuck him, they were to try to earn a living, and in that case, Paulina was fine with it. But no, Harry hadn’t gone to a strip club. The woman who sat on his lap and had her tits in his face, was there because she wanted to get at him, and that infuriated Paulina. She was furious that Harry had had some stranger sitting topless on his lap.

By the time it was her turn to check out, Paulina’s face was flushed and she felt ill. She wanted to go home to her basement and just spend the rest of the day crying, she didn’t even want to drink, she just wanted to cry until she passed out, but she couldn’t do that, she had to push on because being in Washington with Elizabeth Warren was the opportunity of a lifetime. Elizabeth was going to take her along to the dinners and lunches where she was going to meet with influential politicians, and Paulina had to be there, she couldn’t fuck up, she wasn’t about to fuck up because Harry had some topless twit on his lap.

After all, it wasn’t the first time she’d seen pictures of him like that. She’d already seen pictures of birds sitting on his lap while he chatted with friends. Harry didn’t think anything of it. He didn’t kiss them, he didn’t fuck them, they just sat on his lap, and their attention to him, though insincere, made him feel better. It reassured him that he was a bloke worth being around, that just because his girlfriend wasn’t there that didn’t mean that others didn’t want him. And that helped his ego, it made him feel better, but he didn’t think about how it would make Paulina feel. He didn’t think that she’d be hurt by it, even when she told him during their arguments that it made her feel insecure, he didn’t think much of it. He thought she was overreacting, because after all, he wasn’t sleeping with them, he wasn’t getting sucked off by them, he wasn’t snogging them, they just sat on his lap and gave his self-esteem a boost.

But Paulina took it as an affront, and now more than ever, she was insulted and infuriated. She recognized the fact that it was her fault that they were in the mess they were in, that it was her decision that forced a separation on them, but she didn’t deserve to be humiliated by him. She didn’t deserve to have those pictures in circulation, because if he so badly wanted to have beautiful women sit on his lap and have their tits on display for him, then he should’ve just broken up with Paulina. That would’ve been easier to stomach than to have to deal with those images, because despite being heartbroken by them, she couldn’t bring herself to break up with him, because she loved him, and more importantly, he hadn’t cheated. So she had only asked him to not do it anymore, she had only implored that he behave a little better, but after that topless picture, things were going to have to change, because she couldn’t deal with it anymore. If he needed tits in his face, then he could go to a strip club, but she refused to remain his girlfriend while he had normal girls put their tits in his face.

When Paulina exited the market, she expected to see the lone photographer that had followed her over from Boston, but there was over a dozen, crowding at the entrance, waiting to pounce at the sight of her. And when she emerged from the safety of the market, they did exactly that. They swarmed her from all sides, creating a paparazzi cocoon. Their cameras were all up in her face, and they shouted questions at her, their breaths intermingling with one another, causing her to grow nauseous. She needed to get away from them, because if her exposure to them was prolonged, then there was a very good chance that she might snap and punch one of those fuckers in the face. So she had to get out of there, she couldn’t lose her temper, it would be disastrous.

Willing herself to remain composed, she clenched her teeth and soldiered on. They weren’t going to get the best of her, she refused to give them the satisfaction or their bank accounts a fat check from their respective employers. She was going to be alright. All she had to do was keep her head held high and remind herself that she was going to meet Barbara Boxer, the United States Senator from California. So she couldn’t afford to fuck up. It would cost her dearly if she did.

Much to the paparazzi’s dismay, Paulina made it to the car without acknowledging the presence. She set down the grocery bags on the passenger’s seat, and after revving up the engines in warning, the photographers were smart enough to back away and give her the space to leave.

When Paulina arrived back at the hotel, she found Elizabeth going over her opening remarks. She was practicing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, working on enunciating correctly and putting the correct emphasis on certain words. It was important that she do justice to her message and convey just how imperative it was that the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, be established.

Elizabeth went over her opening remarks for a few more minutes before turning over her attention to the data that she and third party organizations had been collecting. While she did that, Paulina packed the waters, the tea, and the snacks into the oversized purse that Elizabeth had provided her. Afterwards, she placed her attention on the paperwork and files that she’d gotten together for the professor. She had made enough copies for each of the Senators on the committee, and would be sitting behind Elizabeth in case she needed any added documentation throughout the course of her testimony.

“Are all the files and documents in my briefcase?” asked Elizabeth as she slipped on her jacket.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Paulina replied, grabbing the briefcase off the desk. “I organized everything according to your specifications. In this bag,” she motioned to the one slung across her shoulder, “I have the files that will go to the Senators. I also have the snacks in here, though I did place a Twinkie and a tea in your briefcase, just in case you get hungry.”

“Good thinking, Paula.” Elizabeth smiled warmly and took her briefcase. “Well, I suppose since you’ve already seen to everything, we have no choice but to get going.” She paused, briefly. “Do you have everything you’ll need? Your phone? And your notebook? Remember, I want you to take notes so we can discuss later on.”

“I remember, Ma’am. And I have my book and phone.”

“Very well then, let’s get going. There’s a committee that needs educating, and I don’t plan to stop talking until we can sway them over to our side. Shoot! The room keys!”

“I have them,” said Paulina, quickly. “Mine is in this bag, and yours is in your briefcase.”

“What am I going to do without you during the summer? I swear I’m going to lose my head when you go on vacation.” Elizabeth exited the room with Paulina following closely behind her. “Oh well, you’ll have to deal with me again in September. And if we can get the Dodd-Frank Act passed, then you might even have a government job by then.”

“Wait. What?” Paulina closed the door behind her. “What do you mean, Ma’am?”

“I mean that if we can get this passed, then I’m going to be the special assistant to the President. I’ll be the one that works on the implementation of the bureau, and it’ll only be natural that I have a personal assistant to aid me.”

“You mean it?” said Paulina in a voice just above a whisper, and in that moment, she forgot entirely about the topless woman. “Would you truly want me? I mean, it’s not that I’m not honored, it’s just . . . everyone’s going to want that position. Everyone will want to work closely with you to see how it’s set up.”

“I know they will, but I want someone I can rely on.” Elizabeth stated. “Loyalty is very important to me, especially when in Washington. The snakes are at play here. That’s why it’s imperative to have loyal staff, even if one has to make travel arrangements for them. Though, come to think of it, having someone to drive with has its perfect. You might just end up being my chauffeur to Washington as well.”

“I’ve no problem with that, Ma’am.” Paulina tried not to seem too pleased with that. “Believe me, I’m only too work and learn.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Elizabeth remained silent throughout the duration of their walk down the hall and into the elevator, it wasn’t until they exited into the main lobby that she spoke up again. “What on earth is going here?” she asked aloud. “Hell, I think another Republican politicians been caught with a lover. I know it’s wrong to say it, but I’m hoping it’s a bible banger that’s been caught with a male prostitute. That would be fantastic. Ted and I always laughed whenever that happened.” She smiled fondly at the memory. “It sounds horrible, doesn’t it? To laugh at another’s misfortune, but I think if you take an active stance against certain group and then get caught belonging to it, everyone has a right to laugh. Who do you think it is? A senator or a representative? With that much press, I wager it’s a senator.”

Paulina was about to give her opinion when she recognized the faces of some of the photographers outside. She’d honestly thought that it was going to take longer for them to get back to the hotel, but apparently they’d all sped back to wait outside for her.

“They’re not here for a politician, Ma’am. They’re out there for me.”

“For you?” Sometimes Elizabeth forgot her research assistant was dating a prince. She was so used to seeing her behind a computer or collecting data in the field that she never actually got to see her as the girlfriend of a prince. “How odd for there to be so many. What an inconvenience. Will you be alright? I’m sure we can make arrangements to slip out the back if you feel more comfortable.”

“Thank you, Ma’am, but there’s no need for that. I’m quite alright.”

“Are you sure? You seem a little out of it?”

Elizabeth was telling the truth. Paulina’s eyes no longer shone brightly, they had darkened at the memory of what she’d seen.

“I’m fine, Ma’am. I’m only a little nervous about being at a Senate hearing, but I’m fine, truly.” Paulina paused, feeling bad about the press outside. “I’m sorry about them. I didn’t think they would follow me out here.”

“It’s not your fault.” Elizabeth stated as she looked over the mob outside. She had never been followed by so many cameras. Once or twice, reporters had followed her to get statements, but she’d never been exposed to anything quite of that magnitude. “We’ll be fine. Come on then.”

Once again, Paulina clenched her teeth and soldiered on. She held her head high as she followed behind Elizabeth, and thankfully for both women, there was a cab out front waiting for them. They slipped in quickly, not wanting to prolong their exposure to the photographers, and once inside, Elizabeth let out an audible sigh of relief.

“That’s outrageous!” exclaimed Elizabeth, shaking her head in disapproval. “The nerve of them to treat you like some animal. You’re a private citizen, not some celebrity. Yes, I understand that you are involved with a public figure, but it’s a British public figure, not American. There has to be boundaries. There has to.”

Paulina ignored Elizabeth’s rant. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ma’am. In the future, if you like, I can travel on my own. It wouldn’t be a bother.”

“You will do no such thing.” Elizabeth stated. “What I’m going to do is call Hillary. She’ll sort transportation out for us so we don’t have to deal with that. I’ll call her later on, when I’m done testifying.”

“Hillary, as in Hillary Clinton?”

“That’s the one.”

“Ma’am, you really don’t have to bother her with this. I can deal with it. I do deal with it.”

“Not when you’re with me. I won’t have you subjected to that treatment.” Elizabeth spoke with such finality that Paulina knew there was no point in protesting. “Now come on, let’s run through the questions. I want you to ask me about how the Act will effect regulation of advisers to hedge funds, because I know the Senators that Wall Street has in their pockets are going to want to go on the offensive on that.”

They spent the drive focusing on the Regulation of Advisers to Hedge Funds, as well as Wall Street Transparency and Accountability. It was a drive jam packed with information, and when they reached the area where they were to exit the taxi, Paulina was afraid that there would be photographers waiting for them, but there were only people from CNN, MSNBC, FOX News, and other cable news channels. As soon as those reporters realized that Elizabeth Warren was the one who emerged from the vehicle, they began pestering her with questions, asking about whether or not she believed the Mortgage Reform and Anti-Predatory Lending Act would actually benefit the middle class. Elizabeth kept her statements short, not having time to deal with them at the present, but she told them that afterwards, she would be taking questions and giving proper length responses.

Paulina followed Elizabeth into the north wing of the Capitol building, which was where the Senate chamber was housed. They went through security and had their identification verified, and once they were given the clear, they walked into the designated area where the committee hearing would be held. It was the first time that Paulina had ever been in the Capitol building, and it took everything she had to not just stand around and stare in awe. It was more beautiful than Paris. She wanted to take in every square inch, but she wasn’t there for pleasure, she was there for work, so she followed Elizabeth, and when they entered the hearing room, she took a seat beside Elizabeth, and waited for it to begin.

The first half of the hearing was dominated by individuals from Wall Street. Each wealthy banker represented their respective financial institution, and complained at length about the negative impact that increased regulation could have on the financial industry. They complained that they were still in the midst of a recession, and that it wasn’t the time to increase regulation, but the time to decrease it in order to get more capital in circulation. The men spoke eloquently, they argued their points in a manner befitting men of their position. Paulina was amazed by how effortlessly they lied, about how they were able to make it seem as if added regulation was truly the cause of all financial strife. She wasn’t an expert on the economy, her expertise lay in social justice, but from what she’d learn from Professor Warren, she knew that due to the lax regulations that the banks had been governed under, they were able to make reckless, high risk decisions that plummeted the entire global economy into a recession. The banks were teenagers who had cool parents that let them stay out late and drink with their friends, they were the teenagers that had an amazingly active social life, but who were so spread thin by going to parties and keeping up appearances, that their actual substance left much to be desired, they were struggling with classes and failing others altogether. That was the state of the banks, and what they needed was the stern parents, the ones that would implement a curfew, the ones that would ground them for failing marks and get them tutors if need be, those were the kind of parents that were needed, but the banking institutions were so used to having a good time, that they didn’t want to be bothered with rules. And they made that perfectly clear to the committee. They made it obvious that they felt regulation would only worsen the recession and serve to further the amount of capital out there for loans.

The entire first half was spent listening to Wall Street, the second was spent listening to the academics that had been called in from the top universities in America to weigh in on the issue. Elizabeth, being the most respected in her field, was the first to testify. She spoke at length about the dangers of continued lax regulation, arguing that it was necessary for stricter regulation to be enforced so that investor’s 401(k) wouldn’t take similar beatings as the one they had when the housing bubble popped and the global economy entered a recession. She was passionate in her speaking, and Paulina couldn’t help but be in awe of her. It was like watching a master at work, like sitting in during a session with Da Vinci. Elizabeth was truly a master of her craft, and during the entirety of her testimony, Paulina completely forgot about what was going on with Harry, but then the testimony ended, and it all came back to her.

When she and Elizabeth exited the room, Paulina checked her phone to see if Harry had called her. He’d told her that he would call and that she should call him back afterward so they could talk for a little bit, that was what they’d discussed earlier in the week, but there were no missed calls. There wasn’t even a text. She was tempted to call him, but before she had a chance to ask if she could be excused to the restroom, Senator Bernie Sanders appeared. He was the United States Senator from Vermont who identified as an independent on ballots, but was a self-described democratic socialist. He was a passionate man with a big personality, and Paulina had followed his career as closely as she had Senator Kennedy’s.

So when Bernie talked to her, Paulina was more than glad to delve into conversation with him. He was a fascinating man, and being able to talk to him – better yet, being able to listen to him and Elizabeth converse, was a true treat. Maybe others would’ve thought it was boring to hear old people talk about economic policy, but she thought it was fascinating. She did her best to absorb as much information as she could, because opportunities to learn from people like them didn’t come around every day.

Since Bernie was on the way to a hearing for one of his Senate Committees, he wasn’t able to stand and talk with them long. They spoke for a little over five minutes, at the end of which, his personal aide ushered him in direction of the room the hearing was to take place at.

“He’s a fascinating man,” stated Elizabeth as he walked away. “I remember I used to love hearing him and Ted discuss policy. Oh. There was nothing quite like having a glass of wine and listening to those two really tear apart legislation, and when Barbara joined in, forget about it. You know what I mean though, listening to Ted on his own was a treat.” She sighed. “Since we’ve finished with the hearing, I’m going to get in contact with Hillary to have the necessary arrangements made for us. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Ma’am, I really must insist that you don’t bother the Secretary of State.” Paulina spoke, firmly. “I understand that you wish to control the situation with the press, but I am quite used to it. That’s how they are, and I don’t want to inconvenience Madam Secretary Clinton. I’ll slip out quietly, and meet up wherever it is you wish for me to meet you. That way you’re not burdened.”

“How could you possibly be used to it? I can’t imagine anyone every being so.”

“I’ve been exposed to them for nearly two years, Ma’am. If you get exposed to anything long enough, you get used to it. That’s the way of the world.” Paulina took in a deep breath. “You have a late lunch reservation with three moderate Republican Senators,” she said as she pulled out her schedule. “Would you like me to meet up with you at the restaurant and make sure that a good, secluded table has been chosen or would you like me to accompany you?”

“I thought I asked you to tell them I needed a secluded table,” said Elizabeth. “Didn’t you already do that? Oh, I suppose it must’ve slipped my mind with everything we’ve been preparing these last few days.”

“It didn’t slip your mind, Ma’am. You did inform me of that and I in turn, informed them. I was only saying that I could go make sure the tables set up well and everything’s perfect.”

“There’s no need for that. It’s a respectable place, everything will already be sorted.” Elizabeth assured. “What I need you to do is accompany me. I have statements to make to various news outlets. Rachel Maddow and Keith Olbermann each want me for their programs, and I have to give an interview for Fox News as well.”

“Fox News?” repeated Paulina, doubtful that she’d heard right.

Elizabeth nodded, smiling slightly. “It’s not something I’m particularly looking forward to, but we’ve got to reach across the aisle, even if it’s just to have our hands smacked away.”

“Doesn’t that get frustrating though?”

“Incredibly frustrating,” answered Elizabeth, honestly. “And the worst part is that O’Reilly is a smart guy, so is Limbaugh. I’ve met them in person before. I’ve held full on conversations, they have their heads on right, but when they get in front of that camera they become a character, because they know that being a right wing zealot is going to make them a lot of money, so they pander to uneducated Americans that are xenophobic, homophobic, racist, and sexist. They exploit their fears and make millions from doing so. I personally couldn’t do what they do, not for a paycheck, but they can, and they do. I only wish they didn’t. But what can we do?” she sighed. “Men like that sold their souls for money. They keep their viewers so afraid over immigrants and abortion rights and gay marriage, that they don’t have the time to think about the real issues, to think about how they’re screwing them over with the economy. I mean, can you believe that those Tea Party idiots were protesting against the estate tax when none of them will ever be wealthy to be effected by it? They were absolutely outraged over that, when it was never going to impact their lives, but there are some people who get so swept up in fear and hatred that they forget about reason. And all we can do is try to educate them, which in itself presents its own problem because professors like me are automatically godless socialist elitist.” She laughed at the absurdity of it all. “Come along, Paula. Let’s go do our part.”

The following hour was spent giving interviews to the national news organizations. Elizabeth spoke at great length to MSNBC and CNN, she gave a statement to Fox News who was – unsurprisingly – quick to label her a socialist, and when she finished with the news channels, she met with journalists from national print newspapers as well as the influential online political bloggers. Elizabeth worked tirelessly to convey her message, and all the while Paulina stood dutifully off to the side, holding Elizabeth’s briefcase and taking in the manner that she expressed herself, internalizing the facial gestures and hand movements. Senator Kennedy had once told her that the most important thing anyone aspiring into politics could do, was observe. He had observed his brothers at great length, internalizing the way they carried themselves in public and conducted their business. There was nothing more important than to be willing to learn from others, and Paulina remembered his words as she observed Elizabeth.

As Paulina stood off to the side, she caught the attention of several reporters. They were all aware of the story the tabloids were running, they’d all even seen the pictures of the prince with the topless woman straddling his lap, and for a moment, as they stared at her, they couldn’t help but contemplate whether or not it might be wise of them to strike up a conversation with her. They weren’t tabloid journalists, so that wasn’t truly something they ever did, but Paulina’s relationship with Harry was international news, what happened with the royals was culturally important, some might even argue politically, and they were in the business of politics. So getting a statement from her could potentially be a good thing. The reporters tried to convince themselves that talking to her was an alright thing to do, that there wasn’t anything wrong about it, but none of them were able to talk themselves into acting the part of a tabloid journalist. That was beneath them.

Paulina was glad to be ignored by the professional press. She didn’t mind being treated as an invisible personal assistant by them; that was fine by her. She based in being ignored until Elizabeth announced that she would no longer be taking questions. And after having stopped to pose for a few pictures for the newspapers and blogs, Elizabeth led Paulina out of the capitol building. Elizabeth had been so swept up in Washington politics that she’d completely forgotten about the paparazzi that was following Paulina around, and when they exited the building, she was reminded of the hell that her assistant had to deal with.

“Paulina! Paulina!” shouted one of the photographers at the top of his lungs. “Over here, Paulina! How do you feel about your boyfriend’s alleged infidelity?”

“What’s going through your head right now?” bellowed another photographer, a heavyset man with dark blonde hair. “Come on, give us an answer! Don’t be so cold, then again, maybe that’s why he had those tits in his face! Just to feel something warm since you’re so frigid!”

That was it. She’d had enough, enough of trying to reign in her emotions and do right by Harry, by the crown, and her family. She didn’t give a fuck about remaining dignified and acting appropriately. That fucking reporter was going to get his ass kicked. She was going to fuck him up for running his mouth like that. Didn’t he know she was already freaking out and stressing over her relationship? That she was forcing herself to be fine and focus on the positive aspects of her day, so that she could get through it? Didn’t he know that it took every bit of her strength to be so cold and composed when all she wanted to do was let her passions run wild? She wasn’t a cold person. She wasn’t frigid. She was passionate. God, she was passionate, but that asshole hadn’t a clue as to any of that, but he was going to. Paulina was going to demonstrate just how fiery and passionate she could be, she was going to show him and everyone else that she was not a bitch to fuck with. She was going to send him to the emergency room with a busted lip and broken nose. All she had to do was drop the suitcase and pounce. That was it.

And so Paulina began to loosen her grip on the suitcase, preparing herself for what was to come, but just as she was about to fully relinquish the suitcase from her grasp, a hand reached out and took her free hand in its possession. She was livid at the thought that someone from the press had had the nerve to grab her, but when she looked down at her hand, she saw that it was Elizabeth who was holding onto her. Elizabeth might have been walking ahead, unable to see the conflict on the younger woman’s face, but her maternal instincts had warned her that the young woman was on the verge of doing something very reckless, so she reached to calm her, not caring if it wasn’t the professional thing to do. Her assistant had been in need of her, and Elizabeth reached out for her, knowing very well just how much of an impact a simple gesture could take.

Elizabeth’s touch was enough for Paulina to regain her senses. Was she still furious? Very much so, but Paulina calmed down enough to recognize how stupid it would’ve been of her to beat a photographer. She would’ve been arrested, had charges pressed against her, and sentenced to who knows what. It would’ve been disastrous for her, and punching that photographer wouldn’t have been worth it. She would’ve enjoyed it for a moment or two, but once her anger passed, she would’ve been in a jail cell, furious at herself, so she was glad that Elizabeth had reached out to her when she had, because if she hadn’t, everything would’ve gone to shit. But as it was, Elizabeth had reached out for her, and calmed her enough to get her safely into their awaiting taxi.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” said Paulina in a quiet voice, too embarrassed to look Elizabeth in the eyes.

Elizabeth smiled warmly. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I do,” insisted Paulina. “I was going to –” she cut herself off, not wanting to admit what she’d actually intended to do. “I was going to tell them for swarming us. It’s not like I’m just wandering around Harvard by myself or with friends. I’m at work. They should respect that, but no, no, they don’t have respect for anything.”

“Of course not,” stated Elizabeth. “If they did, they wouldn’t be paparazzi. They would’ve dedicated themselves to stalking others for a living, but they are what they are.” She took off her glasses and massaged the bridge of her nose. “I know it’s not my place to ask, but are you okay? Because if you’re not, then you can head back to the hotel. You don’t have to wait around for me, while I meet with the Senators.”

“I’m fine, Ma’am.” Paulina assured.

“Are you sure? Because what they were saying, well, it sounded, uh, it sounded a little distressing.”

“The tabloids make their living by distressing people.” Paulina stated. “But I’m fine, Ma’am. While you’re at lunch with the Senators, I’ll eat nearby and meet up with you when you call for me.”

“Well, alright then, but if you feel the need for a break at any point in the day, just let me know.”

The subject wasn’t brought up again. Instead, they focused on the pitch Elizabeth was going to throw at the moderate Republicans to try to convince them to vote for the act. She knew it was going to be a challenge. The Republican leadership had extraordinary control of its members, which was why it was always so difficult to have progressive legislation enacted. Elizabeth hated that about the Republicans, but at the same time, she admired it. The Republican leadership knew how to overwhelmingly make their members walk the party line. The Democrats, on the other hand, didn’t possess that skill. There were always issues within their party, with trying to get more conservative Democrats to support liberal legislation, which was one of the reasons why there was always internal fighting among the Democrats.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Paulina handed over the briefcase to Elizabeth, which she had filled with briefings she might need throughout the course of the lunch. The briefings were filled with information about how the passage of the Dodd-Frank Act would directly impact their respective constituents.

“As soon as I’m done, I’ll send you a text. Alright?” Elizabeth spoke as she fixed her jacket. “I’ll be sitting in the entryway area so you won’t have any trouble finding me.” She paused. “Where are we off to after lunch?”

“There’s a meeting with Senator Hawes at 4:15, which will take place at his congressional office. The meeting is meant to take no longer than a half hour, since he will be meeting with Senator Adamson afterwards. After that meeting is over, there will be another interview with Rachel Maddow, as you know, she wants to speak to you live on air. Once that’s over, there will be an hour and a half break, and then dinner with Senator Boxer.”

“And that’s it?”

Paulina nodded. “Tomorrow is scheduled to be the busier day. There are three meetings in the morning, drinks with the conservative democrats in the afternoon, then a meeting with the progressive Senators, and then a dinner party hosted by Senator Carbajal. And then on Sunday, you had a meeting with the President, but as you well remember, the meeting was cancelled due to his being needed elsewhere.”

“That means our Sunday is open?”

“Very much so, Ma’am.” Paulina replied. “If you like, you can give me a list of senators that you wish to speak with, and I can try to get meetings with them for Sunday.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Elizabeth reassured. “We’ll drive back to Cambridge on Sunday morning. I’m sure you have work to do for your classes, and I know my husband will be glad to have me back early.”

“Alright then.” Paulina watched as Paulina began to leave, and suddenly remembered the notecard special file she’d prepared. “Ma’am, before you leave might I give you something? I, uh, well, I drew this up for you last night. It’s nothing grand, just a little graph that shows much money each senator is getting from Wall Street, as well as the separate corporations they’re getting money from. I remember you asking me to make one if the schedule permitted.” She handed over the stack of four notecards, each senator had their own. “They’re not making as much as the more conservative senators, which I believe will lead to their being more open to potential reform.”

“I believe so as well,” spoke Elizabeth as she looked them over. “Thank you for these, Paula. I’ll review them while I wait. Enjoy your break and remember to mind yourself.”

Now that Elizabeth had been given all the necessary documentation, Paulina excused herself and began to walk down the block. There was no paparazzi following her around. They had yet to be tipped off as to her whereabouts, so she was able to walk around the streets in peace, unrecognized by the majority of the people she walked by.

She used the time alone to revisit the morning’s happenings. Usually, she didn’t much attention to the tabloids. There had been countless times before when Paulina had seen pictures of Harry dancing with beautiful socialites and models, but she’d never cared much. Those stories had no value to them, so they were ignored, but she couldn’t just ignore the topless picture. To her, it didn’t matter if he wasn’t feeling the woman or if he hadn’t gone home with her, what mattered was the fact that Paulina didn’t want Harry having other women’s exposed breasts in his face, not unless they were strippers. If they were professional strippers then that was fine, because that was their job, how they paid their bills, they didn’t look at him as a potential boyfriend, they saw him as a man who would tip will, but Paulina knew that the fair haired woman at the trendy club had shown her breasts in hopes of making herself an object of his desire and potentially, an object of his affection later on. Paulina wasn’t about to stand for that.

Needing to get everything off her chest, she slipped into an alleyway between a Thai restaurant and a sports bar. With trembling hands, she reached into her oversized purse to pull out her phone. All she had to do was press 2 and send, then she’d have Harry on the line, but it felt so much more difficult than that. She second guessed herself as to whether or not she should do it. She was in public, after all. She might have been in an alley, but it was still a public space, and there was a very good chance someone could eavesdrop on her. Then again, she did have an hour and a half to herself, she had to use the time, because she wouldn’t have her next time alone until after ten at night, and by then Harry probably wouldn’t answer her call. So regardless of whether or not she felt ready, she called him. She held her breath as the phone rang, wracking her mind as to how to begin the conversation. Should she play it cool? Act like she hadn’t seen the pictures, and see if he would bring it up? Or should she just blurt it out right from the start? She didn’t know what to do, but thankfully for her, he didn’t pick up.

Annoyed, she let out a slew of profanity, but when it came time to leave a voicemail, she hung up. She wasn’t about to leave him a message, because she knew there was a very good chance that her emotions would get the best of her and she would burst into tears and cry as she told him off, and the odds were he wouldn’t understand a thing she said, so she hung up, and tossed her phone back into her purse.

“Where the fuck are you, güerito?” she asked aloud, resting her back on the brick building. “And who the fuck are you with?”

Her mind instantly began to wander. Was he out at some club? Sitting with another woman’s tits in his face? Or was he somewhere dancing with Chelsy? The mere thought of either scenario suddenly became too much for her, and she burst into tears. She cried openly, slumped on the concrete floor in the narrow alleyway. She didn’t give a fuck if it smelled horrible there, the large trash bins didn’t matter to her. All she could do was cry. Her hands covered her face as she sobbed wildly. Why had things gotten so bad? When did things get so bad? They’d been fine for the first seven months. Not just fine, they’d both been happy. It was the same schedule they’d been on when he was in training and she was at Oxford. They were separated throughout most of the month, and then for two and a half days, they had each other. It was the exact same schedule. So how had things managed to get so fucked up in the last month? To her, April seemed to be a cursed month filled with nothing but shouting matches and heartaches. She wanted to go back to how things were in March, everything had been better in March, but that wasn’t possible. March had come and gone. There was no bringing it back. She had to deal with April, and all the stress it brought with it. And she sobbed because she didn’t want to, she sobbed because she was exhausted.

She didn’t know what to do anymore. She’d put so much of herself into their relationship, so much effort and love, but it was falling apart. She recognized that she was responsible, that if she had stayed in England, things would’ve been easier. They probably wouldn’t have been fighting as much as they currently were. If only she’d stayed, she wouldn’t have been crying in an alleyway, hoping that the press wouldn’t find her, but she hadn’t stayed. She had chosen to go to Harvard, ad she couldn’t help but wonder if the pictures were Harry’s way of punishing her for that.

It was a preposterous thing to think, but yet it was the only thing that many any sense to her. He was punishing her for having gone so far, reminding her that there were thousands upon thousands of women out there that wanted him, and that she had to put him first, or else someone else would. It was an absurd thing to think, she knew that, but it was the only thing she could think of.

Paulina remained in the alleyway, partly hidden by the garbage bins, until her phone began to ring. She quickly wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand, willing herself to be composed. She didn’t want to look like she was crying and she most certainly didn’t want to sound like it.

“Good afternoon, this is Paulina, speaking.”

“Chunky butt!” exclaimed Luis, a hint of relief in his voice. “I didn’t your ass was gonna pick up since you’re over in DC. How are you, though? Everything alright out there?”

He knew. The concern shone though in his voice, and Paulina knew that he’d seen the picture of her boyfriend with the topless woman, but she wasn’t going to talk to Luis about it. For starters, she didn’t even know what was going on so she wasn’t in a position to truly talk about it, but more importantly, she didn’t want to speak badly of Harry to her brother. She didn’t want Luis to dislike him.

“I’m doing alright,” she assured him, forcing herself to sound upbeat. “I’m a little tired from all the running around we’ve been doing all day, but it’s been good. I actually met Bernie Sanders earlier, so that was rad, and then I’m gonna meet Barbara Boxer later on, so I’m very much stoked for that. It’s gonna be good.”

“Sounds like everything’s chill out there,” said Luis. “Workwise, at least.”

She bit down on her lip, trying to keep it from trembling. “Everything’s chill out here, Luis,” she eventually said. “I’m good, really.”

“Paulin . . .” he wasn’t going to drop the subject. He knew that was what she wanted, but he could hear in her voice that she’d been crying, and that broke his heart. She was his little sister, it was his duty to make sure she was alright, to hold her while she cried and bring her some In-n-Out to make things better afterwards, but she was thousands of miles away, and she didn’t want to talk.

“Hey Luis, do you mind if I call you back later? I’ve got to sort a few things out for Warren.”

He was quiet for a moment, wondering if he should pretend like he believed her lie or if he should press the subject. He wanted to know what was going on with her, if she needed him to fly out or if she wanted him to fly their mom out, but in the end, he knew he had to respect her privacy. If she didn’t want to talk about it then, she’d want to talk about it some other time.

“Nah, that’s alright,” he told her. “You don’t have to call me back. I just wanted to see how you were. I’m glad to hear you’re doing alright though. And just know that if you ever need to talk to me, about anything at all, I’m here.”

“I know, Luis.” Her voice softened. “Thank you. Give everyone a hug from me, and tell mom and dad that I’ll call them later. I’ll text you later though, keep you posted with how things are.”

“Sounds good.” He let out a soft sigh. “I’ll talk to you later then. I love you, chunky butt. Remember that.”

“Love you too, Luis.” She blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears from falling. “Bye.”

She stayed in the alleyway a little while longer, not daring to step onto the street until she was ready to face the strangers and the photographers that would find her soon enough. She walked along the block in silence, searching for a place to eat, and after walking past a lot of upscale restaurants that didn’t look all that inviting, she settled on a small Parisian style café. It was there that she remained throughout the entirety of her lunch break.

Afterwards, she met up with Elizabeth at the restaurant, and the pair took a cab to the congressional building where Senator Hawes office was located. During the drive over, Elizabeth informed Paulina of how the meeting had gone. One of the Senators had flat out said that he would vote against the legislation if it ever came to a vote, two stated that they were open to discussing it, and one said that they were open to supporting it. Elizabeth knew that a lot more meetings were going to have to be had, but she was glad of the direction things were going in. And when she visited with Senator Hawes, she felt even better about the state of things. He was working to gather Democratic support for the legislation, and so far all the progressives had pledged their support to it, as well as most of the moderates, it was the conservative Democrats that they had to focus in on, and it was Elizabeth’s job to develop a strategy and literature to convince them.

When that meeting ended, the pair rushed over to an interview with Rachel Maddow. Again, Paulina stood off to the side and watched from behind the camera, as Elizabeth conversed with Rachel, but unlike the earlier interviews, Paulina couldn’t bring herself to really get into it. Her mind was preoccupied with what Harry was doing, and despite trying to focus on what she was saying and how Elizabeth was getting her points across, all she could think about was what Harry was doing.

Luckily for Paulina the next item on their schedule, was a ninety minute break before a dinner with Senator Boxer. Elizabeth was going to spend half the time sleeping, and that had been Paulina’s initial intention as well, but when she got to the hotel, she locked the door that connected her bedroom to Elizabeth’s, and dialed Harry again. She hoped that that time around he would pick up the phone, but two phone calls later, and there was still no answer.

“Hello Harry,” she spoke, unable to call him Henry or güerito, because her heart just wasn’t in it. “I’ve tried calling you a few times, but, uh, you haven’t answered. You must be busy with . . . with your royal duties, but anyways, I just wanted to talk. Call me back when you can. Bye.”

She sat by the phone for the next hour, fully expecting him to call her back, but he didn’t. He was off enjoying himself with Jake and the lads. His cell phone wasn’t something he was thinking about.

Despite wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and cry for the rest of the night, Paulina forced herself to get ready for the dinner. This was a reward that Elizabeth had organized for her. Yes, it was also an opportunity for her to talk to an old friend, but she had gone through the trouble of making it so Paulina could accompany them to dinner, and Paulina wasn’t about to mess that up because she wanted to cry. There would be time for that later. She’d have the rest of the night to cry, and the following night as well, she just had to tough it out. And that was exactly what she did. She put on her cocktail dress, fixed her hair and makeup, and then accompanied Elizabeth to the restaurant in the hotel where they were to meet Senator Boxer.

It was strange how Paulina had gone from looking forward to the dinner all week, to suddenly dreading it. She just wanted to go back to her hotel room and sulk. That was it. She’d probably wander down the block to pick up a bottle of wine, get a hamburger somewhere, and then get mildly drunk by herself in the hotel room. That was what she wanted. She didn’t have the heart to be out in public, but she didn’t have a choice. So despite being miserable, she put on a brave face and put to use the lessons that Lady Fellowes had taught her during her time in England. She was amiable, she was knowledgeable and she was attentive.

Had she met Barbara at another time, she would’ve enjoyed the meeting even more, she would’ve truly been able to appreciate, but the dinner took place while her heart ached, and she wasn’t able to truly relish in it as much as she’d imagined she would.

The first thing she did when she got back to the hotel was to check to see if she had any missed calls, if maybe Harry had called while was at dinner. She hoped he head, she really did, but there weren’t any missed calls from him, only from her parents. They wanted to ask her about how things were going in Washington, but more than that, they wanted to talk about the picture of Harry with the topless girl, they’d seen it on the television earlier, and they were both furious. They wanted to ask if she’d broken up with him, if she’d talked to him already, and Paulina had a feeling they did. That was why she didn’t call them back. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with that.

Not knowing how to proceed, she took a seat on the edge of the bed. She didn’t think, she didn’t move, she just sat there, staring at the ground with tears blinding her vision.

Thousands of miles away, a sober Harry stared down at his cell phone. He’d just gotten in from a night out with Jake and the lads, but unlike previous outings, he didn’t drink himself into belligerent drunkenness. He only drank enough to get a good buzz going, and to maintain it, but not more. The last thing he needed was another night of drunken stupidity. He was still recovering from the former day’s outing, in which he ended up with a topless woman on his lap.

If he was to be perfectly honest, he couldn’t remember anything about that woman. He didn’t remember meeting her or telling her that it was alright to sit on him. He didn’t remember anything about her or the club they’d been photographed in. The last thing he clearly remembered, was leaving Mahiki because Guy was going to meet up with a bird at some other club. That was where Harry’s recollections of the night ended. That was why, when morning came and he saw the pictures of him splattered across tabloid after tabloid, he grew anxious. He was smart enough to know that Paulina had seen them. Had his girlfriend been British, then there wouldn’t have been a reason for the American tabloids to print it in their publications, but as it was, his girlfriend was American. His relationship was high profile on both sides of the Atlantic, and as such, the tabloids all over the country ran that image of his drunken self, staring at those tits. They printed cover after cover, and Harry was freaking out because he knew that Paulina was going to be absolutely furious at him. She was going to be pissed off and heartbroken. And he didn’t want to have to talk to her, he didn’t want to have to apologize, because he was afraid of what might happen.

Their relationship was going through a rough patch. They were snappy at each other. He kept throwing in her fact that she’d abandoned him in England, and she kept complaining about him hanging out with Chelsy. They were constantly at each other’s throats, and that wasn’t the way he wanted things to be. He wanted things to go back to how they were in March, when things were good between them. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen, not after those pictures were released. Things had gone from bad to worse, and he was afraid that maybe . . . maybe she’d be so angry with him that she’d say she had enough. That she couldn’t do it anymore. His heart panged at the possibility of her ending things. He loved her, he truly did, but sometimes he just did stupid things, sometimes he didn’t think and he was afraid that was going to lead to his losing the most important person in his life.

Needing to talk to her, to try to make things better, he dialed her number, and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Hello love, it’s me . . .”